Happy Hallowe'en
by myboygeorge
Summary: It's Hallowe'en and Ryan and Honey-Milk get more than they bargain for when they 'trick or treat' at Castle's party - their baby boy.  Crumbsverse, M, takes place during chapters 1, 7 and 9 of 'Better Together', and simultaneous to 'Life of the Party'.
1. Costumes

'Jenny! Let's go!'

'I'm coming, I'm coming.'

Ryan rolled his eyes. He loved his new wife beyond all logical comprehension, but unless it was work-related the woman was never anywhere on time. He didn't consider it a female thing, he considered it a Jennifer Agatha 'Honey-Milk' Ryan thing - their first date, he'd had to tell her the movie time was twenty minutes sooner so that she'd think she was late when she was actually punctual.

Pacing around the living room of their apartment, Ryan headed to the kitchen and checked his reflection in the toaster. Castle had decided this year that his Hallowe'en party would be themed, with Esposito cranking about how Hallowe'en costume parties were by definition themed parties.

'You don't have a costume,' he'd guessed as they'd left the break room with fresh coffee a few days before. 'I bet Meredeth does.'

'Oh, is she going to be Mary Magdalene from _Jesus Christ Superstar_?'

'I'm hoping she's coming as one of the girls from a Russ Meyers movie,' Castle said with a cheeky grin. 'We all know what he's famous for, and he'd have made Meredeth a superstar if she'd been born in the right time.'

'Can you stop commenting on my girlfriend's breasts, Castle?' Esposito sniped. They were still trying to close in on the identity of the Bodega stalker and even with the excellent lovin' he'd gotten from her before coming on shift, he was still on edge about keeping her out of danger. 'You already have a seventies-movie costume don't you, Kev?'

He sure did - Danny Zuko from _Grease_. Though Ryan didn't considered himself anywhere near the singer or dancer the young Travolta had been, they did have one thing in common and that was devastatingly piercing blue eyes. He considered himself a decent looking guy, but Ryan knew it was those round turquoise marbles that were his best feature and the reason why he'd been such a hound during his days in uniform. There was many a woman ready to toss her skirt to the wind when they'd seen him in his uniform and his eyes were almost the same colour as his shirt. Hell, it was how he'd gotten Honey-Milk's attention the first time they'd met. When they'd first spent the night together, she'd teased him that they wouldn't need candles if there was a power-outage since his eyes were practically glow in the dark.

He did a quick turn in front of the toaster again, looked at his costume - black leather jacket, white shirt, lot of hair product and some very tight jeans. Okay, he had two things in common with the young Travolta, he thought, liking the way his fine, if narrow, behind was put on display.

'Looking good, Detective. Or is it dy-no-mite?'

'_Grease_ is set in nineteen fifty-one so...' Ryan trailed off when he saw the costume Honey-Milk was wearing: an old-fashioned white nurse's dress, inadvertently cut so it showed off the lovely pair of apples of her cleavage. The skirt itself ended three inches above her knees and she'd donned white stockings while her hair was rolled in a French twist at the nape of her neck and a little paper white hat was pinned on top of her head. She wore a little grey eyeshadow and matte peach lipstick and to Ryan's way of thinking, lived up to the standard of why almost every man included hot nurse on his top-five sexual fantasies. 'Wow.'

'You like?' she asked, turning in a circle.

'I thought Nurse Ratched was supposed to be scary and evil. I just wanna take great big bites out of you.'

'Just what you want to hear when you're a pediatric nurse.' But she crossed over to him, gave him a kiss on the cheek. Honey-Milk knew the look in her husband's eye and if she gave him a real kiss, they'd end up decorating the living room with her stockings and his pants, amongst other things. 'All the tiny-human caretakers are dressing up.'

'So you're a nurse, going as a nurse?'

'I'm changing when I get there,' Honey-Milk laughed as they grabbed their coats, headed out. 'I'm going to be Tinker-Bell and do a reading of _Peter Pan_ with the older kids, and they'll all get orange Jell-O and chocolate ice cream while we watch _The Legend of Sleepy Hollow_.'

'Is it wrong I'm in my thirties and that still sounds fun?'

'Because it's you, no. Even Castle could get away with it. Esposito...he'd probably just want to eat the Jell-O off Meredeth's naked stomach.'

'Wouldn't happen,' Ryan said as they hit street level, turned for the subway station.

'Why?'

'Javi doesn't eat Jell-O.' Ryan watched Honey-Milk's hips swinging as she walked down the stairs ahead of him, felt his jeans get just a fraction tighter. _Down boy_, he told himself sternly. 'Why couldn't you have been Tinker-Bell for this party?'

'Because Tinks wasn't in any nineteen seventies movie I'm aware of. But if you promise not to pout over the fact I have to leave for work, I'll wear my little green dress home.'

'Done.'

* * *

When they got to Castle's, Ryan was surprised to find the place already hopping despite it being barely eight, but that was secondary to the room full of amazing costumes - at first glance, he saw Michael from _The Deer Hunter_, Kurtz from _Apocalypse Now_, Alex DeLarge and Annie Hall.

'I wonder what Castle's dressed up as,' Honey-Milk said, stowing her bag of work clothes discreetly in Castle's office.

'Greetings!'

They turned and Honey-Milk didn't have long to wonder as Castle, or rather King Arthur appeared, a stuffed bunny with dripping red fangs in one hand and a set of coconut shells in the other.

'What is your name?'

'Jenny?'

'What is your quest?'

'To come to a Hallowe'en party?'

'What is your favourite colour?'

'Um, yellow?'

'Excellent.' Castle grinned broadly, stepped aside. 'You may join our soiree.'

'Jenny's never seen _Quest for the Holy Grail_,' Ryan explained as Honey-Milk looked at the writer in utter bafflement. 'I'm hoping becoming friends with Meredeth might broaden her movie horizons.'

'In the meantime, do you have anything here acceptable for a nurse about to go on shift in two hours?'

'Right this way my dear,' Castle said, gesturing in an after-you way, then glanced over his shoulder. 'Oh, have you seen Kate yet?'

'No, why?'

Castle offered his buddy a toothy grin. 'She lost a little wager we had, which means I got to pick her costume.'

'Will I recognize her?'

'You have hot-blond radar, you'll find her.'

Ryan furrowed his brow as he went to a table full of different kinds of hors d'oeuvres. He considered himself open-minded, even curious about various kinds of foods, but there was something about eating the oozy, gooey, or chewy on Hallowe'en that gave him the weirds. Loading up a plate, he decided to play it safe with crab dip, spinach puffs, and pretzels with tzatziki. He'd long ago learned the golden rule of being a cop - food breaks weren't regular so you ate what and when you could. It was a practice that often served him well at parties.

Knowing his girl would get him a beer or some other kind of drink, he people watched, looking at the ingeniousness of some efforts - like one guy who'd dressed as Obi-Wan and made a lightsabre out of a flashlight, some clear tubing and green tissue paper, and a woman who'd donned a nude body-stocking with strategically placed shark fins, a blond wig and some green fabric ropes for -

Ryan blinked and nearly choked on his spinach puff. He knew that gait, he'd seen it striding towards crime scene tape a million times. _Hot skippy damn_ he thought, as he tried very hard not to laugh. Setting his plate down, he dusted off his fingers as Honey-Milk came back, a blood-red drink in one hand and a beer for himself in the other.

'Hey, I bumped into Lanie. She looks awesome, she's dressed like-'

'Honey, who's the woman over there in the blonde wig?'

'Where?'

Ryan grinned now; he couldn't help it. 'The one with the shark fins.'

'I don't know, she...' Honey-Milk's mouth dropped open as the woman turned around, fire in her eyes and colour in her cheeks. 'Beckett? What the hell is she wearing?'

'All Castle said is that she lost a bet with him and he got to pick her costume.'

'Clearly.'

'Wouldn't mind seeing you in that, showing this off,' he murmured, patting her hips, letting his fingers trail over her stomach.

Honey-Milk felt the rush, wondered why she was being so cruel holding out on him until she got home from work the next morning. It was Saturday night, it was Hallowe'en, what was wrong about a little extra candy?

'I'm going to go ask her about it, you keep an eye out for Meredeth and Javier.'

'Mm.' Ryan eased back, picked up his food again. 'Espo said he let her sleep an extra hour after she was sprung from Saint V's, so they won't be here until closer to nine.'

'Damn, I'm on shift at ten. Think I can...screw, I'll say I got stuck downtown in Hallowe'en craziness. I want to see this costume Meredeth's been telling me about. Your partner's going to flip his lid when he sees it.'

'No fair.' Ryan pouted magnificently, but let it pass when he saw Alexis and Patrick make their appearance from the kitchen and he had to go compliment their Mel Brooks-inspired creations - they'd dressed as characters from _Young Frankenstein_, one of Ryan's favourites.

He didn't realize until almost forty minutes later that his wife had disappeared; it tended to happen upon occasion at Castle events where getting sidetracked was not only bound to happen, it was expected. As he thought about circling back to ask Beckett, who was still fuming over her costume despite the praise she got for its originality, Ryan felt his cellphone buzz in his pocket. Fishing it out of his jacket, he saw it was an incoming text from Honey-Milk.

_Trick or treat lover_.

He blinked; he didn't even want to guess where she'd tucked her phone on her costume. Ducking to a somewhat quieter corner, he hit 'Reply'

_Where are you?_

A few seconds later, he got his response.

_The bathroom upstairs._

Then what he read next made him wonder why he'd chosen to wear a black leather jacket, as he felt like he might burst into flames.

_Come join me for a little Hallowe'en candy._

* * *

R&R&Enjoy.


	2. Treats

Ryan swallowed tightly as he tried not to split his face in the grin of the about-to-get-very-lucky. Picking his was through the crowd, he carefully avoided Castle and Lanie and Beckett to make his way upstairs. Thankfully, a quick glance around told him his hoping the guests would be too looped on zombie-punch to notice his disappearance was not only met but exceeded. He knocked on the door, heard Honey-Milk voices through the wood.

'Kev? That you?'

'Yeah.'

He heard the lock turn and before he could ask, she'd yanked him in by the shirt front, then swiftly relocked the door behind him as she pinned him against the door, her mouth busy against his, her hands against his chest. When he had regained the power of speech, Ryan studied his wife, who was glowing with anticipation.

'What are you up to, Jenn?' he asked, partly curious, partly amused. Her text had been the clearest kind of code, but he wondered if she would actually say the words.

'I figured it was unfair for you to have to wait until tomorrow for your Hallowe'en treats.' She kissed him again, holding onto the lapels of his coat. 'So I thought why don't we do the time honoured quickie-at-the-party as a preview for when I'm off work.'

'Seriously?'

Honey-Milk pursed her lips in a sexy pout, took a step back. Ryan felt all the blood drain from his head straight to his loins when she slowly popped the top button on her dress, revealing the tiniest bit of skin.

'Unless you don't feel...up to it.' She drew out the words, relishing the look on his face as she undid the next button.

'God, yes,' was all Ryan could manage as her hand went for the third button. He stripped off his jacket, hung it on the towel pegs on the back of the door, then his shirt. His libido hummed like a Mustang engine when he saw the delight in his wife's eyes as he did so. Rubbing a hand over his stomach, he leaned against the marble sink to finish watching the show she was putting on for him. When she'd gotten down to the last button, Honey-Milk parted the white fabric and Ryan felt like an absolute fool.

She was wearing a very flimsy white lace bra that pushed her breasts skyward, and matching lacy boycut panties; her stockings weren't attached with garters, but were instead lace-edged stay-ups, the kind of lingerie engineering that in his mind defied the laws of physics. It was all he could do not to fall to his knees and sing hallelujah at the sight of her.

'You knew we'd end up here, didn't you?' he mused.

'I know how to get my guy where I want him.' She walked over, straddled his legs with hers. 'And tonight, I wanted you like this.'

Honey-Milk walked her fingers from his belt-buckle up to his Adam's apple, pleased he was a little shaken up. It wasn't often that she got the drop on her cop, so when she did, she played it out for every last drop she could. Her fingers slipped away from his throat, up to his nose so he went cross-eyed then focused on her face as she nipped at his lower lip, one of her favourite spots on his body.

'So what kind of candy do you want first?' She traced her hands over the tops of her breasts. 'Something from the northern mountains, or the southern honey-combs?' she purred, trailing her hands to the tops of her thighs.

Ryan's only response was to kiss her, his mouth crashing down on hers with all the passion and lust she'd stirred up in him. He slid his hands over her hips, up her back to pull her close. She was so tiny and petite, but he loved that about her, especially the fact that her breasts were the perfect fit into his hands. He carressed them, tugging the straps of her bra down so they popped out, landing in his palms. He brushed a thumb over her nipple, making her gasp in his mouth.

Honey-Milk closed her eyes, breathed deeply. She loved getting her hands on her man, any place, any time. As her hands reached past his hips to the counter, she had a slight out-of-body experience when she remembered briefly where they were. But such trivial matters were far from her mind now; all she could do was feel - his lips, his breath, his skin, everywhere all at once on her body.

With an impatient cry she tugged at his belt, roughly jerking down the zipper of his pants. 'Hello, Detective,' she murmured when she tugged his jeans and boxers down, found his flag flying proudly. 'Do you have-'

'No, I don't.'

Her debate was fleeting; after all she took the pill and they'd done without before.

'That's okay.'

Ryan paused, looked at her. 'You sure?'

She nodded, and he captured her mouth once again, running his hands over her body, her breasts, stroking her nipples until she cried out for him - they were her most sensitive trigger for gettign in the mood, he'd learned. Because her mind was spinning, he knew she wouldn't notice when he pulled her lace panties over her hips until they were at her knees and she stepped out of htem herself. Ryan kept his eyes locked on hers as he slid his fingertips up the inside of her thigh, each time just stopping short. When he reached that heated vee, found her waiting wetly for him, her head rolled back on her shoulders.

'No,' she sighed.

'No?' This was one of her favourite moves of his, so turning it down was a little strange.

'Not tonight, just you inside me.'

'Okay.'

Still kissing her, Ryan moved so that she was against the marble counter and he was standing in front of her, to help make up for the height difference since she'd taken her shoes off. Cupping her bottom in his hands, he boosted her up and because she was already open for him, slid himself inside her as he let her land on the countertop. Surprise flashed in her eyes as she began to move against him, her short legs wrapping around his hips, her arms around his neck.

Honey-Milk had never felt so erotic in her life as when she watched her husband's face as he picked her up and just drive himself inside her. It was instinctual, animal. Here there was no murmured promises of no other loves, this was pure, unadulterated lust, just him and her with no latex between them. She rocked her hips, arching her back so her breasts pressed forward and she felt his mouth against one, then the other as he changed the pace so it wasn't just a slam of pelvises, but a slow burning grind.

Ryan watched her face as the orgasm built inside her, and because he could feel his own approaching soon, changed the pace once against so he would shoot her over the edge first. Sure enough, he felt her tense and tremble, heard her breath catch in her throat, her whimpers of delight forcefully muted - they usually enjoyed being loud together in the privacy of their own apartment, but that style would have more than a few eyebrows raised if there was a line-up. Instead he kissed the curved of her neck and stayed there as he felt the flood arrive, heat pouring out of him and into her.

Chest heaving, skin sticky with sweat, Ryan braced his hands on the counter as Honey-Milk's legs slid from around his hips, her heels hitting the lower doors of the counter.

'Happy Hallowe'en,' he murmured, giving her a deep kiss.

'Certainly put the treat in trick-or-treat.'

Ryan chuckled; his body felt satifised and tuned, his mind clear. He ran his hand over her hip, then suddenly realized where they were, as if noticing it for the first time.

'Jenn.'

'Mm?'

'We just had sex in Richard Castle's bathroom.' He said it on a laugh as the absurdity of it hit him like a tonne of bricks. He didn't know of anyone else who could claim they'd made sexy-time in a celebrity's bathroom. Well, unless you counted the antics of Meredeth and Esposito, though he knew they'd only just become intimate with each other a week or so prior. But it was besides his point - no one else he knew could claim they were invited to a superstar's super-star party and then banged their wife like they were two horny teenagers on the sink counter in the bathroom.

Honey-Milk matched his bewildered giggle with one of her own as the thought hit home as well. But who cared? She'd gotten to go to the Hallowe'en party and a little Saturday-night yee-haw with her hot husband, all before she had to go to work and dress up as a fairy for sick children. Life absolutely did not suck at the moment. Riding the post-glow high, she pecked at his smiling lips. 'So?'

'So,' he grinned, easing back and effectively slipping out of his wife. 'Who gets to tell him and make his head blow up?'

'How about neither? It'll be our little secret.' Honey-Milk looked around, sniffed. 'And we should tidy up a little so no one suspects.'

Ten minutes later, when they'd finished 'destroying evidence' as Ryan called it, he put his white t-shirt back on, then his jacket, checked his hair in the mirror. 'You want a hand with your dress?' he asked.

'No, it's okay, honey. I got out of it for you, I can put it back on. What time is it?'

'Just after nine.'

'Perfect. You head out first.'

Ryan nodded, eased open the door. Because there was another bathroom downstairs, there was no one waiting in the hallway to use it and giving him the fish-eye. In fact, he wondered if anyone had noticed that he'd gone at all. When he safely made his way downstairs, he headed over to the bar for another beer, then fished his cell out of his pocket.

_All clear, Honey-Milk, I'm at the bar_.

He waited, pretending he was people watching and saw his petite bombshell blondie rejoin the group, making a point of saying hi to a few people and avoiding the drunks. When she joined him, her eyes still had that twinkle in them.

'Some how,' he mused as she ordered a soft cocktail, 'I don't think I'll ever think of the phrase 'trick or treat' ever again.'

'Well, you didn't really get tricked, but both of us certainly got treated.'

Ryan smiled, clinked his bottle against her glass. 'What is that stuff?'

'It's called 'Witch's Brew'. Pomegranate juice, grenadine and 7-Up. Hey, I forgot to tell you something upstairs.'

'Oh?'

'I love you, Kevin.'

'Love you too, Jenn.' He sipped his beer, then hopped up off his stool as he saw his partner walk in. 'Come on, Javi and Mere are here.'

* * *

R&R&Enjoy!


	3. Logics

'So how's the wife? You guys do all those cliche things like walking around the apartment naked or breakfast in bed?'

'You know, ever since you and Meredeth hooked up, you've turned a little more pervy.'

'I've always had a healthy mind about sex, now I just have an outlet for it.'

'Oh I'd love to see Meredeth kick your ass if you called her an outlet.'

Esposito grinned as he powered down his unit for the day. With court prep needing his time at home that night - or rather, at Meredeth's home in Chelsea - Beckett had been kind enough to spring them both for the day on time. making both cops overjoyed at the prospect of being able to see their ladies. He grabbed his winter overcoat off the back of the chair, slid in his arms. 'In all seriousness how's it going?'

'Great, although she's got a jump on flu season right now.'

'And you make her chicken soup, don't you?'

'You'd do the same for Meredeth, that is, if it didn't run the risk of giving her food poisoning.'

'Hey, we made her those cookies a few weeks ago, right before she moved.'

Ryan shut down his own computer, waited until the lights blipped off before winding his scarf around his neck. 'And we all needed a quart of milk apiece to wash 'em down.'

They continued to debate Esposito's culinary skills - or lack thereof - all the way down to the garage, where Esposito arched an eyebrow as his partner hopped in the passenger seat.

'Dude, I'm meeting my girlfriend at Penn Station, where are you going?'

'Same as you. There's a coffee shop there that makes a killer chicken soup and I'm sure Jenny will appreciate the gesture.'

'You are so married.'

* * *

Ryan walked into the apartment, take-away bag in hand. The stop at Penn Station had been a little out of his way but considering the scoop he'd given to Lanie - the sharing of the info that his partner was in love, even though everyone could see it - in trade for the motherland milk had been totally worth it. Lanie agreed to bring it to the little open house Meredeth was having on Christmas Eve, her first real party in her new place, along with their gifts for each other.

He listened for signs of his Honey-Milk, and felt a little sad when there was only the sound of a sitcom coming from their bedroom. After he'd left his winter outerwear by the door, he followed the noise and felt even worse when he saw the chalky shade of her face, a box of Kleenex, an OJ juice-box and the phone lined up on her bedside table like a little army. She was tucked in the peachy orange sheets, pillows arranged like she was sandbagging herself into a foxhole as she studied her laptop screen with tired eyes.

'Hey honey.'

Honey-Milk glanced up, sniffed at the air. 'You brought soup didn't you?'

'Yeah, from that little coffee shop in Penn Station you like. Javi and I were done at a decent time so we met Lanie and Meredeth after they'd finished shopping.'

'At Penn Station?'

'It's only six blocks from Meredeth's place in Chelsea, and Espo was on his way there anyways.'

'Ah.' Honey-Milk sat up straight, her stomach rolling. 'I don't like being sick,' she pouted.

'I don't like seeing you sick. Think you can handle some toast with the soup?'

'I think I could use a hot shower, that's for damn sure. I'll get back to you on the toast.'

She swung her feet over the side of the bed, gave him a little hug as she grabbed a towel from the closet and turned the corner from their bedroom to the bathroom. When the water was the right temperature, she stepped under the spray and wanted to cry from the feel of it, steamy and welcome - just like her husband.

As she rinsed shampoo from her hair, she went for the fancy soap she'd gotten on their honeymoon in Ireland. What an unexpected treat that had been from Richard Castle. The man clearly had more money than was reasonable if he could just book a suite for them like that at the drop of a hat. Not that she or Ryan had complained in the slightest - as soon as her mother had been well enough, they'd flown out and it had been a magical two weeks, especially after the hell of worrying over her mother and whether she'd be okay or not, and then her family looking at her like she was crazy for marrying her love so hastily in the hospital chapel at Saint V's. Not the work of a good Catholic girl, her mother had said with a little bit of a bite but her brother Aiden had been over the moon happy and pointed out to them all that Ryan was planning to propose soon anyways, they'd simply hit fast-forward.

She lathered the bar on her bath puff and was stroking it efficiently over her body until she came to her boobs and felt a strange tenderness when she did her usual check-for-lumps like she always did in the shower. They were sore, and bigger, she realized, hanging the puff by its string on the bath-tools hook. She cupped them, gave them a little squish. Probably because she hadn't gotten her period yet; they always got swollen and sore when it was close to that time of the month, the time when her wonderful charming husband always let her be and used it as ideal overtime at his desk in the bullpen, then all but served her chocolate milk and cheesy garlic bread by all but nudging the tray into the bedroom with a ten-foot-pole.

It didn't concern her that she was late - between the flu season at the hospital and the fact they were coming into a very stressful time of year with the arrival of ice and snow, Honey-Milk imagined she wouldn't be getting her period until well into next week.

Briefly, she wondered if she might be pregnant, but brushed it off. She'd always been one to assume the worst about her body, like when she was fourteen and thought she had thyroid cancer but it turned out to be nothing more than a nasty case of strep throat she'd gotten from kissing Brandon Macaulay who'd neglected to inform her of this at the grade nine Valentine's Dance. Going on to study nursing and then working with children meant jumping to conclusions was going to get her nothing but a headache, so she'd learned to stay calm and logically run through other, less extreme options.

She was sick and throwing up for the last two weeks; well of course she was, working in a hospital full of airborne God-knew-what and being around little incubators of other delightful biological surprises took a toll on the immune system. She'd opted not to get her flu shot until December, when the virus would spread like wildfire and taken down members of the staff on a daily, almost hourly basis. When she wasn't throwing up, her appetite was enormous; she was a stress eater and whenever her body got done voiding its contents she always got bizarre cravings, like fries with gravy and ketchup together. The week leading up to exams in her second year of university, she'd alternated between throwing up in anxiety then wanting nothing but ginger cookies, high-fibre cereal, pumpkin lattes and fried chicken.

She was late for her period which also had a logical explanation - she was assistant head nurse on the pediatric ward, with her supervisor and pediatricians having more authority. That kind of promotion meant more paperwork to be done during a shift and she was still adjusting to married life while maintaining her career. She was also shadowing the OBGYNs, Doctor Maila Kirshner in particular, as she was considering getting certification in birthing and delivery to go with her pediatric fellowship. That stress would cause anyone's body to have a reaction and hers, like a lot of women's, was her ovaries getting screwed. It also explained the sore boobs, as they always got like this right before Mother Nature reminded her she was a healthy fertile woman in the prime of her life.

And most conclusively, she and Ryan had done the hippity-hop on each other without using a condom more than once without any zygotes being formed. No reason to think that the last time they'd done so - Castle's Hallowe'en party, in the _bathroom_ no less - would give them different results.

She shut off the water, reached for her towel. The terry-cloth was carefully wrapped around her body, the lightweight fabric still rubbing uncomfortably against her breasts. Her stomach gurgled as Honey-Milk wrung out her hair in the tub and she had an inexplicable desire for beef with sweet chili Thai sauce and salad with French dressing.

_Stupid stress_, she thought absently.

Once dressed in comfortable clothes, she wandered into the kitchen where she saw the soup, steaming and waiting in a bowl on the table, complete with spoon and a selection of crackers or toast. Over in the living room, Ryan was on his X-Box, his war-hero avatar mowing down the enemy with brutal efficiency. He glanced over when he heard her come in, paused his game.

'Feeling better?'

'Much.' Honey-Milk inhaled the fragrant steam rising from the dish. 'Oh you know what would go perfectly with this? Cheeseburgers.'

'Cheeseburgers? I left you with your head in the toilet this morning and tonight you want cheeseburgers?'

'From Remy's, you know those big triple slider sizes they make, with fried onions, lettuce and honey mustard. Oh and sweet potato fries with roasted garlic mayo, maybe a strawberry shake with chocolate milk.'

'Keep dreaming, honey.' Ryan poured himself some coffee, sat down beside her. 'The way your stomach's doing jumping jacks, soup is all your getting, but you can go nuts and have a little cheddar cheese with your toast.'

'Skippy joy.'

'So any idea when this little flu bug is going to run its course?'

Honey-Milk flicked her eyebrows as she scooped up broth. 'No idea. Could be it was already done and I'm getting PMS on the tail end.' When Ryan said nothing, she glanced up. 'What?'

'Nothing, just...you usually text me for a pit-stop on lady-things at Duane Reade on my way home, and I haven't gotten that call since before Hallowe'en.'

'Kev, I'm sure that's not what it is. It's a busy time of year and my body-clock goes wonky when I'm stressed out. Work's been a bitch lately you know that.'

'I do.' But Ryan just could not shake that feeling, that cop instinct that told him it was possible. He gave an uneasy laugh. 'You don't think we might have procreated at Castle's party, do you?'

'Oh please, that'd be so horribly cliche of us. Eloping covered that spread more than enough don't you think?'

'Agreed. Eat up, I want you better soon.'

* * *

R&R&Enjoy.


	4. Worries

It was Christmas Eve; Honey-Milk was starting to freak out. She still hadn't gotten her period yet, she was still queasy all the time, and her hormones were all over the place. She was snappy and snarly one minute, the next ready to have her husband wherever he stood in the room.

Now she was starting to ask that question. She had to, she didn't have a choice. What if she was pregnant? If so, at least she wasn't showing yet. The few little extra curves her or there could be attributed to holiday snacks, and she loved chocolate as much as the next person.

Standing by the edge of the bed, contemplating the shower before Ryan arrived after a brief shopping trip for last minute gifts - an unexpected court-date getting bumped up had cut into his time - Honey-Milk studied her naked body from the front and side in the mirror. She was a slim woman, always had been; how would that change if she had a baby? And if she was knocked up, wasn't worrying about herself the most horribly selfish thing she could do? What about her husband, and their relationship? They'd been together a while now, but they'd only just gotten married in a whirlwind less than four months before. What would this do to them?

So involved in her own reflection she was that Honey-Milk didn't hear the door open, just her husband's voice.

'Sorry I'm late, honey, but you would not believe how many idiots leave shopping until today and then lose their minds when things are sold out. Of course, I had a legitimate excuse, but even so...'

He trailed off, pulling off his leather gloves as he stopped at their bedroom door, saw his wife standing in front of the mirror buck naked with a concerned look on her face. 'Worrying about how many of Meredeth's sweet-treats to have tonight?'

Her shaky sigh had a quick and lethal arrow of fear piercing his gut. She turned around, wrapped her bath-towel around her body. 'It's nothing, just me being paranoid.'

'Jennifer.' He moved in the doorway of the bedroom so he filled it, thereby making her escape impossible. 'What's up?'

'I don't know. I still can't shake the nausea and my appetite's all screwy, and I still haven't gotten my period, and-'

'Jenn-'

'I think I might be pregnant, Kev,' she finished on a burst, like a diver running short of air and finally reaching the surface. She clapped her hands to her mouth in panic, watched his face register this possibility. Yep, there was the surprise, then the fear she knew. Shaking her head, she sat down on the end of their bed, head in her hands. 'All the signs are there, and I've tried to ignore them or play them off so you wouldn't think I'm jumping to conclusions, but...'

Ryan stood in the door, feeling like he'd been kicked in the stomach. He studied his wife in shock, the slim body wrapped in bright blue and yellow terrycloth. Needing something to do, he took off his heavy winter coat, then his suit jacket and finally his tie before he sat down beside her. He'd dealt with shock, shaken witnesses enough to know that after this admission she'd need a moment or two. It wasn't until he felt the little tremble beside him that he realized she wasn't just concentrating on the floor but quietly weeping. It was something that had always thrown him - the women he knew were loud noisy wailers while Honey-Milk barely squeaked when she was in tears.

'Hey.' He gathered her close, relieved when she nestled her head on his shoulder. 'It's going to be fine.'

'I'm really freaked out right now, Kev. What if I am pregnant? We haven't planned for this. Everything is happening so fast with us.'

'Fast doesn't always mean wrong, honey. Could be worse, took Beckett and Castle almost as long to even have a first kiss as we took to get from a first date to getting married.'

'Really?'

'Mm-hmm. Two weeks after our first date he came on board, but he didn't so much as give her a smooch on the cheek before our wedding reception in September.'

'Slowpokes.'

She said it with such petulant conviction that Ryan had to laugh. He picked up her hand, the one with his ring on her finger. 'You see this?' he asked her, tapping the engraved gold band.

'Yeah.'

'That's our promise to each other. Up or down, hot or cold, we're a team. And if our teaming up has started our family like this, then that's the card we play.'

'I love you.'

'I love you.' Ryan put his hand against her cotton-covered tummy. 'I tell you what, we'll make a deal. If you still haven't had your, you know, lady-days, a week from now, we'll get a test and see if the universe has pushed fast-forward on us again. Deal?'

Honey-Milk laughed. He was a homicide cop, he dealt with dead bodies and their emotional friends and family for a living and not once had she ever her him use the P-word in relation to female biology. 'Deal.'

* * *

They didn't stay long at Meredeth's townhouse, not only because of the long, gooey looks that passed between his partner and girlfriend, but because Ryan could tell that his wife just wasn't in a party mood. He was almost tempted to stop at the Duane Reade for a Clear-Blue test on their way from the subway station to their apartment, but he remembered the deal he'd made with her. Whatever hell he was in with the waiting to find out for sure, he knew it was cake compared to the fact that it was Honey-Milk's body that might change.

But Meredeth had been gracious as always and sent them on their way with a plate of goodies along with wishes of get better for New Years Eve and thanking her for the gifts they'd brought - he'd given his partner a new jump-stick for backing up his case log after he'd laundered the last one and Meredeth a Lego Star Wars game for her Wii - the exact same one she'd given him, albeit for X-Box. He couldn't wait to try it out and normally, he and his bride would have spent the rest of Christmas Eve playing with their new toy, then playing like grown-ups in bed together until it was time to get some shut-eye.

Not tonight, though. When they got in, Honey-Milk went over to the couch and studied the pine tree while she flipped the television to the faux fireplace.

'Scooch over.'

Honey-Milk leaned forward, felt her husband fit himself in behind her so the small of her back rested between his legs. 'It was a nice dinner. Javi's lucky he found a good cook. Is he going to tell her he loves her soon?'

'I hope so. The way they were checking their speech around each other tonight, it's like you just want to pull on their tongues until they give in.'

'Of course, the way they look at each other, they probably already know it's just a matter of finding the moment to say it, so it has some romantic meaning for them, you know?'

'I told you spur of the moment in Central Park.'

'Central Park's a wild card, it's always romantic, even when it's scary.' Honey-Milk picked up his hand from his knee, saw the ring there to match hers. They'd had them engraved when they'd bought them on their honeymoon - _Mo Chiusle_. My blood, my darling, my pulse. 'You know,' she said, trying for casualness in her voice, 'we could get a ring or a pendant for our baby with this on it.'

'_Mo Chuisle?_'

'Yeah, it'd be a wonderful gift to give him or her.'

Ryan wrapped his arms around her as she heaved an unsteady sigh. 'I agree. But, and I know this is pointless but I'm saying it anyways, try not to think on it. We made a deal.'

'I know.' Honey-Milk turned so her ear lay against his chest and she could hear the quickened pace of his heart. 'You're nervous too?'

'Of course, honey. Everyone always makes the pregnancies of the world about the mother, which is true, they're doing the heavy lifting, but they didn't get that way by themselves.'

'Very true.'

Ryan wrapped his arms around Honey-Milk, kissed the top of her head. 'Whatever happens happens and we will welcome a little baby Ryan with just as much enthusiasm as if we are buying lots and lots and lots of condoms. We'll have shares in Trojan stock by the time we're done shopping.'

'I thought you liked the LifeStyles ones.'

'Only if they're flavoured.'

'Latex still tastes like latex, honey,' Honey-Milk giggled, feeling a little better. 'But I think we might have one or two left in the bottom drawer.'

She extricated herself from his embrace, then took him by the hand into their bedroom. It was where they'd truly spent their first night together as a married couple, not in a hotel or the beach outside a tropical honeymoon suite. They'd gone home from the hospital, ordered their favourite fancy take out - chicken Florentine for her, chicken parmigiana for him and a very large bowl of farfalle arribiata along with an ice cold bottle of chardonnay for dinner, then mochaccino panna cotta and champagne for dessert - and spent as much time as they could loving each other until they had to go to the hospital again.

Now, faced with the prospect of another life changing event, they loved each other with the same kind of sweetness, the kind that made a life apart incomprehensible. She watched as they undressed each other, the way the low street-lamp light hit his skin, soft and pale over that disciplined body. He wasn't a work-out geek, not like his partner was, but he was fit and toned and made her feel like a soft ivy vine wrapped around a marble pillar whenever they came together like this. Even in the dark she could see his big blue eyes, like pools of pure water she couldn't wait to drown in.

Once finished, hearts racing and knocking against each other's ribs, Honey-Milk stroked her hands over his shoulders, turned her head to watch the snow blowing around outside. It was like being in their own little snowglobe, for she was definitely feeling shaken up.

'Jenn?'

'Mm?'

'You thinkin' of Rooney?'

'The band? No, why?'

' 'Cause I could swear you're drumming the chorus to 'I'm Shakin' just now.' Ryan propped himself to his elbows, studied her face. It was the most relaxed he'd seen her all night. 'I love you.'

'Love you too.'

Ryan smiled at her, then put a hand over her stomach, below her navel. 'And if there's someone in there who can hear me, I love you too.'

* * *

R&R&Enjoy!


	5. Sights

It was past midnight, a new year, and Honey-Milk knew exactly how she wanted to start it off.

Because Ryan had been supplying her drinks all night, she was able to get away with a champagne flute of ginger-ale when the clock struck twelve o'clock and he'd given her the kind of kiss that was just romantic but reassuring.

She'd taken her make-up kit and her cellphone into the upstairs bathroom, locked the door. The last thing she needed tonight was someone wandering in. Reading the directions on the Clear Blue box, she marshaled her concentration and got to peeing. When she'd capped the test strip, she put the test stick face down under a hand-towel and washed her hands before she sent Ryan a quick text.

_The pee-stick is percolating._

A few minutes later, well after the instructions said it would be done, she got a text back - _lemme in_.

Honey-Milk unlocked the door, then sat on the closed toilet, staring down the hand-towel like it was going to spring to life and bite her face like something from _Alien_.

'So, what's the word?' Ryan asked, sitting across from her on the edge of the bathtub.

'I was waiting for you.'

Ryan linked his fingers through hers, holding his breath in when she flipped back the towel like a magician. 'Wait,' he told her before she looked at it. 'Jenny, whatever happens, just know that I love you very much.'

'I love you too Kevin_.'_

'Okay. Moment of truth.'

Honey-Milk kissed the back of his hand as she turned the stick over, and felt her stomach bottom out. There was the answer in the little display window.

_Pregnant_.

The tears sprang up out of reflex, her shoulders shaking not in stress or disappointment but with laughter. Shaking his hand loose, she pressed it to her mouth as she began to smile, rocking back and forth.

'What?' Ryan asked her on a laugh, unsure if it was joy or relief that was making her react like this. He got his answer when she turned the stick towards him and he saw the digital readout. 'You're pregnant?'

'Looks that way.'

'Oh my god,' he breathed, pulling her to her feet. 'I can't believe this. You're pregnant.'

'Uh-huh.'

Overwhelmed with joy, Ryan leaped to his feet, pulling her into his arms. 'Honey, I love you so much.'

'I love you too.' She stretched to her tip-toes, kissed her husband as he held her tightly, tears pouring down her cheeks and the test still in her hand. 'You're going to be a daddy.'

'And you're going to be a mommy.' He put his hand against her belly, amazed how it was still flat. 'I...this is amazing, there's a little bit of me and you together in there.' His cherubic face glowed with unadulterated glee, his eyes shining like polished sapphires. 'You work with kids every day, what's the first thing we should do?'

'Get it confirmed. We should go into the clinic at Saint V's, it's twenty-four hours.'

Ryan shook his head as Honey-Milk dropped the test in the trash, hid it with some squares of toilet paper. 'We can't leave tonight, they'll get suspicious.'

'Then we'll leave here early, like seven or eight, and just say I got beeped into work by accident, then we'll go home and sleep it off until dinner.'

'Sounds like a plan.' Ryan turned her around so she was spooned against him, and they could both see her in the mirror. 'See in there,' he said, rubbing her stomach below her belly button. 'There's a little Ryan in there.'

* * *

The plan worked. The only person who they'd bumped into on the way out the next morning was Lanie on a bathroom trip, and she was too hung-over to warrant more than a sleepy 'whatever' on their story; they made it away no-one the wiser. Give how early it was on one of the biggest party nights of the year, getting a taxi outside the building was incredibly easy.

'Kev, there is a possibility this is a false positive,' Honey-Milk reminded him as the cab dropped them outside the entrance to the Saint Vincent fast-track clinic - a hybrid of a free clinic and the emergency room, where patients with insurance went for doctors' care that didn't need the ER but couldn't wait for an appointment with their regular physician. It was bright and welcoming without the down-trodden feel of a clinic or the hyper-neurotic chaos of the ER by the paramedics bay.

Because fate was on her side, Honey-Milk saw Maila Krishner, a charming, bird-like Indian doctor at the desk, consulting with the on-call nurse. She approached, still holding her husband's hand; Krishner looked up at the approaching steps and smiled warmly when she saw her colleague.

'Nurse Ryan, Happy New Year. You're not working today, are you? I didn't see your name on the call sheet.'

'No, no, I'm here as a patient.'

Krishner blinked her doe-like eyes. 'Everything is alright, yes?'

'I need a pregnancy blood panel done, and if it pops positive, a sonogram or ultrasound.'

'Oh! Congratulations!' Krishner set her clipboard down, came around to embrace her favourite nurse and repeated the process on Ryan; he could see why Honey-Milk loved working with this woman. 'I didn't even know you were trying for a little one.'

'We weren't,' Ryan said with a dry smile, watched Krishner's expression change ever so slightly.

'Well, trying or not, we'll get you sorted out. Get checked in, and I'll see if I can arrange a few things to get you seen as quickly as possible.'

Honey-Milk gave her information to the desk, then sat with her husband on the long padded bench, her head propped against his shoulder. 'Talk to me, honey.'

'It's huge, Jenn, no question. But like I said, hot or cold, we're a team, and now we're going to be a trio. Fast doesn't always mean wrong.'

'I'll get fat.'

'You'll gain weight to nurture our little Kevin or Jenny.'

Honey-Milk shook her head; even with the shit he saw on the job, when it came to their life together he was always glass half-full. 'I'll be hormonal.'

'If it's anything like your lady-days, I can handle that.'

'Is it any wonder I love you so?' She leaned over, kissed his cheek.

Ryan smiled, rubbed her arm. He was happy about the baby, no question, but he was equally relieved to see his girl so much more herself. Holidays were supposed to be happy times and she'd spent the last week in an emotional hell of not knowing either way; he'd never been so thankful his parents had gone to visit his sister in Australia for the month of December. The looks and questions and pressure he'd get from them were not something either of them was prepared to deal with before they had a handle on it for themselves.

When her name was called, they stood up, went into the little room where the nurse offered her a gown to change into for the exam.

'This feels funny, being on the other side of the chart,' she commented, staring at the ceiling as she lay on the table.

'Can't imagine what...'

Ryan trailed off as Krishner popped in, dragging the ultrasound equipment behind her. He felt his stomach do the same hiccup it had when he'd seen the Clear Blue stick the night before.

'The lab is backed up like you would not believe so we're going to do this one first, give you a visual confirmation.' Krishner set up the machine, squeezed the cold blue jelly onto . 'Cute undies, by the way, Nurse Ryan. Didn't know you liked snowflakes so much.'

'Usually I'm the only one who sees her skivvies,' Ryan smiled, moving his chair so he could be beside his wife.

'Okay, family, deal or no deal.'

Krishner flipped the switch as she moved the wand over Honey-Milk's pelvis. On screen, there was nothing but grainy grey lines. Another move of the wand and Honey-Milk let out a little gasp, her fingers tightening around her husband's.

There it was. The hollow black kidney-bean shape, and in the middle, a tiny little mouse-like shape, with a little flicker near one end, fluttering like a butterfly in a jar.

'Oh, Kev, look at that.'

'I know.' Ryan put her fingers to his mouth, kissed them sweetly. 'Look at that is right.'

'Would you like to hear the heartbeat?'

Honey-Milk nodded; her eyes spilled over as she heard that familiar noise. She'd heard it on rounds working with Krishner, but nothing could prepare her for hearing it when it was her own ultrasound. She turned her face into her husband's shoulder, overwhelmed at the sight.

'_Mo Chuisle_,' she murmured, his hand stroking her cheek; she felt him shudder once.

Ryan stared, transfixed at the screen. His child, inside his wife. It was the most precious thing he'd ever seen. Clearing his throat, he spoke to Krishner. 'Can you tell how old?'

'Yes.' Krishner pushed a few buttons, made some calculations. 'Judging from length and development, this little one is about eight weeks old, so calculating from there, I'd put your due date in the first week of August.' Being an experienced physician, Krishner pushed a few more buttons to make a copy of the video and give them a print copy of the sonogram. 'I'll just give you a moment while I get you some literature. You can go ahead and get changed, but I'd still like to draw some blood so we can get an idea of your health and needs for your next appointment. I know you're a peds nurse, Jenn, but it's different when it's your body.'

Once Krishner was gone, Honey-Milk started to laugh using the hospital gown to dab away the medical goo on her abdomen. 'Are you thinking what I'm thinking?'

'Oh yeah. That is our the result of our Hallowe'en candy.'

'Looks our treat tricked us after all.' Honey-Milk sighed, sat up to put her street clothes on. 'Kev, I'm-'

'I'm right there with you. It's a big one, a huge one. But it's going to be a hell of a trip.'

'I was going to say I'm starving and really want a sandwich or a wrap of some kind.'

Ryan smiled, staring at her flat belly as she tugged her pants up over her hips. He couldn't wait to watch her change and grow with that little potato-bean they'd just seen for the first time. 'Already starting on the cravings huh? Whatever mama wants, mama gets.'

Honey-Milk zipped on her hoodie, tapped his chest. 'Guess what else mama wants.'

* * *

R&R&Enjoy.


	6. Plans

True to his promise, Ryan took his bride - now also his baby mama - to Shasta's, her favourite deli near their house. Shasta's made her favourite sandwich so he figured all the good husband points he could accumulate now would serve him well in the long run.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her belly. Their baby was growing there. A little bit of himself and a whole lot of his amazing Honey-Milk all shaken and stirred and in seven months or so, ready to be poured.

'Honey? You're staring at my boobs.'

Ryan blinked out of his fugue state of happy. 'Actually I'm staring at your belly but the table's in the way.'

Honey-Milk just laughed, shook her head. 'You won't be saying that by Valentine's Day. My belly will be sticking so far out.'

'Okay kids, whaddaya like?'

'Barbecue chicken club, toasted on white, and a chocolate milk,' Honey-Milk told the waiter without so much as a glance at the menu. 'To go.'

'And you?'

'The same.' Ryan looked at Honey-Milk. 'I thought you said you were hungry.'

'I am.'

She got the glint in her eye, the same one that put them onto this new path of parenthood, and Ryan swallowed.

'Jenn,' he said in a low voice, taking her hand in his, 'is this the hormones kicking in already?'

'I want to celebrate the conception of our baby. Don't you?'

'Of course.' Ryan felt his nerves fray a little when he realized that planning for the unexpected was going to become the status-quo for the next thirty-two weeks, not just his wife's needs for their baby, but her own too. These were going to be some interesting waters to navigate until August fifth.

* * *

When they got back to their apartment, they put the food in the fridge and wandered over to the second bedroom across the hall from there's. Honey-Milk leaned against the door frame, studied the space. They'd used it as a catch-all for books, electrionics, Ryan's bike, her skis, extra furniture and other things they weren't quite ready to part with that didn't have a proper home in their home.

'We're going to need to clear some room out,' she decided. 'Can't have a baby amongst all this.'

'Agreed.' Ryan scooped her hair off her neck, placed a soft kiss against that sweet curve. 'Do we want to know ahead of time?'

'No. Do you?'

'Well there's an argument to be made for it, you can be better prepared with baby supplies, you can pick out a name, decorate the nursery. But...' Ryan kissed her neck again, let his chin rest there. 'It's one of the last true surprises you can have, so I say no.'

'Cool.' Honey-Milk felt her stomach gurgle a little. 'And there's something else.'

'Oh?'

'We get to tell our friends tonight.'

Ryan wrapped his arms around her waist. 'Do we just want to make the announcement or do we want to be clever?'

'Clever. Always more fun.' Honey-Milk turned around, leaned her forehead against his body. Kevin Ryan was not a big guy by any stretch of the imagination, but being such a tiny person herself he was her big tough guy with the ooey-gooey marshmallow heart. 'But that can wait a moment or two. I just want to be with you right now.' She gave him a smile. 'I'm having your baby, baby and that's something most definitely we need to celebrate.'

Ryan kissed her forehead, breathed her scent as he walked with her back to their room. Standing at the side of their bed, he took her face in his hands and kissed her, the same way he had on their first date - sweetly, hesitantly, the kind of kiss that had told him she was more than just a date; she was the woman. Her hands circled his wrists, holding him there as she sighed with his mouth on hers.

They'd been together long enough for Honey-Milk to anticipate what pace they would set for loving each other first the first kiss; when it was short bursts, it would be laughing and giggly, when it was sticky and lingering, it would be wild and passionate. This kind told her that it would be gentle and tender, lovemaking to cherish each other. She let her head fall back, rolling on her shoulders as his mouth moved from her lips down the slim column of her neck. Goosebumps raised on her skin when he took a small step back, then smiled when she realized his hands had gone to the zipper of her hoodie and was drawing it down, slipping the fabric from her shoulders. When it pooled on the floor behind her, she grasped the hem of his sweater, peeled it over his head, laughing a little.

'Kevin, don't you get itchy with just your skin under those cable-knit things?'

'They're lined with organic cotton. Cozy as a papoose.'

Honey-Milk laughed again; he had a way with words. 'I love you, Kevin Thomas.'

'I love you right back, Jennifer Agatha.' Ryan came back to her, his hands at the small of her back as he sat on the edge of the bed. He leaned back so she sprawled on his chest, rolled so she was under him, her apple-like breasts rising and falling. Keeping his movements soft and languid, he slid his hand up her body, lowered his mouth to hers as he slid one pale-pink bra strap down her shoulder. She had the tastiest shoulders; the texture of her skin there was like cream. When he felt her shudder, Ryan looked up, saw her swipe her fingertips under her eyes.

'Jenn?'

'I'm fine, it's just...you overwhelm me.'

'Honey.' Ryan kissed her cheeks where the little tears made their way over her face. Even happy tears reduced any man to jelly like seeing their lady cry. 'If you don't want to right now, it's fine.'

'I'm just so tired,' she replied, her voice starting to hitch. 'It was a late night, and then it was a very emotional morning, seeing our sonogram. I love you and I was to be with you, but mostly I just want to stay here and sleep in your arms.'

'Okay.'

Ryan stood up, finished stripping himself down, then helped her out of her clothes so she was just as naked. With a flick of the wrist, he turned back the duvet, held it up as she slipped under, then spooned himself in with her; because it was something he knew would give her comfort as much as himself, he pressed his palm between her breasts so he could feel her heartbeat.

'I love you Jenn, and I'm here for you whatever you need.'

'Love you too, honey.' The words ended on a drowsy note, and were barely out of her mouth before Honey-Milk dropped into sleep like a stone in a wishing-well.

* * *

'You sure you want to tell them today?'

'Of course. I'm far enough into it that it's safe, you know?'

'I'm just thinking they might think we were holding out on them last night.'

Honey-Milk smiled as she knocked on Castle's door. 'Meredeth and Javier were so into their own little world we could have said the world is going to end tomorrow and it wouldn't have made a dent, and I know you're most excited to tell him.'

'I am.' Ryan didn't like to admit it but of all them at the party the night before, it was his partner, his brother, and his lady that he wanted to tell the most. 'He and Meredeth

Honey-Milk nodded her agreement, not protesting about naming Meredeth because it had been obvious even in October that the _Lady Hawk_ scribe would have to be a guest in the morgue for Esposito to break up with her. She gave his hand a squeeze as the door was opened by the lord of the manor, a little fatigued but happy nonetheless.

'Happy New Year, guys, come on in!'

Castle stepped back in welcome, helped Honey-Milk with her coat. 'Can I get you a drink?'

'Oh, just something soft. Anything stronger would have seriously bad results.'

Castle wandered off with their coats, but before Honey-Milk could poke her husband in the ribs over his double-entendre Alexis came bounding up to them. Her usually milk-pale face was flush with excitement.

'I'm so glad you guys are here! I have something to show you in the study!'

Equally confused and amused, they followed the pretty teen into the office; Ryan let out a laugh when he saw the chart-paper 'board'. 'Baby Bump in the Night? Is this a Castle thing or a Beckett thing?' he asked, as Alexis pulled something up on her laptop.

'This is one time I wish there was a door here,' she mumbled before looking up from the screen. 'I want you guys to see this video I shot last night.' She turned the computer around, pressed a key. Intrigued, Ryan watched, then realized just what Alexis had spent her day doing with her chart.

_Hey Ryan, and Honey-Milk, what's your New Years Resolution?_

_No more sushi for lunch. I keep forgetting I buy it then it stinks up the fridge for days afterward.  
_

_What about you, Ryan?_

_Cutting back to only one fantasy sports draft  
_

_Like you'll be able to do that._

_Oh she's a snappy one, give me that camera, maybe we can get your resolution on here._

Alexis hit 'Stop' on her video player, then folded her hands in front of her face in gleeful anticipation. 'I think you've got another reason to cut out sushi, Jenny,' she said in an exhilarated voice. 'I found the pregnancy test in the trash this morning.'

'You did?'

'Yeah, and Dad walked in when I had it in my hands, and thought it was mine.'

'Oh, I'd pay money for a photo of that,' Ryan chuckled, knowing his civilian partner well enough by now to know just how that would have gone down.

'So?' Alexis' eyes shone brightly. 'Am I right?'

Honey-Milk smiled as Ryan wrapped an arm around her hip. 'You are indeed. We went to the doctor's this morning for a confirmation.'

'Second generation of the Twelfth precinct will be here next summer, August fifth to be specific,' Ryan added, giving her a kiss on the top of her head.

Rather than an explosive Meredeth style eruption of elation, Alexis squeaked a little and bounced on the spot. 'Oh congrats you guys! You'll be great parents and I know how big this is and you're probably going to tell everyone at dinner, but I have to ask a huge favour. Can I tell everyone?'

* * *

R&R&Enjoy!


End file.
